


nihil cedit mare

by alcor



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: Dubious Consent Due To Identity Issues, Forced Masturbation, Mindfuck, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-04
Updated: 2013-11-04
Packaged: 2017-12-31 13:09:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1032064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alcor/pseuds/alcor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The sea yields to nothing."</p>
            </blockquote>





	nihil cedit mare

**Author's Note:**

> long, weary sigh. it keeps happening.

It shouldn't have been that long since Tron, because he vaguely remembers defeating someone, someone who was in the way between him and the-great-enemy-Doctor-Faker, and somehow he thinks that means he must be dueling someone else soon, very soon, and yet it feels like it has been a long, long time since then.  A whole new lifetime long.

(he doesn't sleep anymore, he doesn't think, or if he does, he can draw few distinctions between being awake and dreaming.)

He doesn't remember much about who he was before Tron and THIRTY-TWO - he knows he must have been Somebody, because he has a name, and because he has Rio - but that's okay, because Tron told him that it was past and not important, and because even if he was allowed to remember, THIRTY-TWO would make it impossible.  THIRTY-TWO is jealous of his thoughts and doesn't like them to stray backwards, or to others.  THIRTY-TWO boils hot in his veins like magma vents in the ocean floor, brushes against the few thoughts Tron allows him for himself again and again, circling and swimming against them to divert them.  
  
 (- in his dreams, THIRTY-TWO swims in his veins, glides through his insides, moves him in the force of its inexorable wake, and burns in his mind uncontrollably like a fever - he counts one-two-three-four all the way to THIRTY-TWO over and over again, his fingers touching his skin once for every number, finding the places that burn hot - when the growls escape his lips, THIRTY-TWO burns words star-bright in his mind WE WILL TAKE WHAT IS OURS/WE WILL TAKE AND LEAVE NOTHING/WE WILL TAKE AND GIVE NOTHING/BUT YOU WILL GIVE TO ME/YOU WILL GIVE YOURSELF TO ME/I WILL WHET YOUR FANGS AND OUR POWER WILL BOIL THE SEAS/THINK OF ME/LOVE ME/BECOME ME/ **LOVE ME/BECOME ME**   
  
and it beats to the count of one two three four (four, and he thinks of fire) five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen (thirteen is the age of someone, someone...) fourteen fifteen sixteen seventeen (another marine Number) eighteen nineteen twenty twenty-one twenty-two twenty-three twenty-four twenty-five twenty-six twenty-seven twenty-eight twenty-nine thirty thirty-one THIRTY-TWO, four by eight or sixteen by two or four by four by two or four by two by two by two or two by two by two by two by two and he is lost in it, lost in the counting, lost in his breathing and the delirious heat and the rhythm of THIRTY-TWO inside him breaking against his mind like waves - )  
  


* * *

  
"Goooood morniiiiiing!" Tron trills as he opens the door and twirls inside, his arms out to the sides as if he is playing airplane.  "It's somebody's big daaaaayyyyyyyyyyy!!"  
  
In a dim corner of the room, away from the three beds in the center where Tron's sons lie sleeping, what was once Kamishiro Ryoga kneels, slumped over, legs splayed out behind him, his hair curtaining his face, completely naked yet sweating as if he has a fever.  The numeral 32 now burns violet on his chest, throwing dim foxfire highlights around him.  
  
Tron dances right up and pats him on the forehead, rustling his bangs.  "You've got to get up and get dreeeessed, or we'll be late for the biiiig event!"  His head tilts upward and his eyes, glassy, unnaturally violet, focus on Tron's single visible eye with obvious difficulty.  "Yes, that's right!" Tron says, in the tone of someone announcing a birthday, "Today's the day you're going to get revenge for your sis-ter and kill Dr. Faker!  Isn't that wonderful," he says, slying, smiling, watching the fire kindle in the boy's eyes -  
  
"my little Shark Drake?"


End file.
